Morgan shoved her phone into her pocket, smiling a little. She had just made it out of the forest when the earth began to shake, knocking her feet from underneath her. She was a New Yorker, born and raised, and it took her a moment to place that it was an earthquake. Panic moved her feet, not sense. She desperately tried to remember the various earthquake drills Arcana had run. She remembered something about getting to an open space; and so she ran, heading for the front lawn. She kept glancing at the sky, making sure she wasn't running under power lines. She stopped, glancing around her, when she reached the front lawn. She took a breather, her eyes unable to leave the school.
The building was old, and she wasn't altogether sure of how stable it was. Her worst fears were confirmed as she saw parts of it start to collapse. Her common sense was the only thing that stopped her from running into the building to help people. She knew it would be foolish- if she wanted to help, it made more sense to do so out here, where she wasn't endangering herself.
She remembered that as being one of the first pieces of advice her father had given her before coming to Arcana. They had flown from New York to San Francisco together, him having some business in the city.
They had been watching the safety demonstration. Her father had said, "You know why they tell you to put on your own mask before helping others?" She had just looked at him. "'Cause if you didn't, you'd pass out in around thirty seconds. That's always something to remember, Mo. As selfish as it may seem, never endanger yourself to help others."
She found her feet planted in the ground, unable to move. She searched the faces anxiously, hoping to see the familiar faces of her friends. She found herself holding her breath as time passed, and made herself remember to keep breathing.
Zac grinned at Loren as she began to pick out rhythms to his idle drumming. Her rhythm matched his perfectly. However, it couldn't last forever. The earth began to shake, knocking him from his stool. Zac had lived in San Francisco in his entire life. He knew exactly what it was. He looked up at Loren, fear in his eyes. "GET DOWN!" He yelled. Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed his acoustic and thrown himself across the room, tackling Loren and wrapping his arms around her, trying to keep her safe. His breath left his lungs in a rush as he hit the ground. He glanced around the room. Everything began to topple from the shelves.
So much was happening, Zac couldn't pinpoint just one event. He just held Loren and his guitars close and waited it out. He cried out as a sickening pain exploded in his left leg. Shortly after that, the shaking appeared to stop. He pushed himself up and gasped as a fresh wave of pain ran through his leg. There was no way in hell he could get himself out. His legs were pinned under what looked like his collapsed desk and while there was only minor pain in one, the other was excruciating to move. He shook Loren gently, hoping she was conscious. "Loren." He tried to shift himself slightly. "Loren." The pain was bringing tears to his eyes. Thankfully, she seemed to be conscious. "Loren, my legs are trapped." He told her, keeping his voice steady and calm. He was freaking out inside, but he had to keep calm. He had to keep calm for her. He looked her in the eyes. "You've got to pull me out."
"I think my leg is broken. You've got to promise me that no matter what, you're going to get me free. If I cry out, hell, if I scream, you keep pulling. Then I'm gonna get us out, I promise." He wrapped his hands around hers and stared her straight in the eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't find the words. At night, they came so easily, flowing onto the paper. Before his roommate had arrived, he would often stay awake at night, writing songs. Not all about Loren... but there were a few sheets of paper tucked into the drawer in his desk with her name written at the top. He had left them there, just in case anything happened to him. Nothing he could say right now could sum it up. There was silence for a few seconds, then he dropped her hands. He lifted himself up, gasping, and freed his guitar from underneath him. He slid it towards her. "I'm not going to be able to carry that out."
Zac was almost amused by the fact that his acoustic guitar had emerged without even a broken string, while his legs were pinned and one was probably broken. He couldn't see his electric, but he was willing to bet it had emerged unscathed as well. There was something almost ironic about the situation.
He pulled himself out as far as he could. It was a painful procedure, punctuated by gasps of pain. His hips were free, but something below his thighs was caught and unwilling to release him. He reached out and took Loren's hands. "Remember, keep pulling." He said, looking straight into her eyes. "On three. One, two...
Three."
Chris almost fell into the swimming pool when the first tremor rolled through the ground. He had lived in San Francisco long enough to recognize an earthquake. He stared at the school in horror. He started to run, his body instinctively imitating the form of an Olympic sprinter. He pulled off his sunglasses as he ran, shoving them into his pocket. His lengthened pace meant he got to the school quicker. A few students appeared to be already gathered outside, but he ignored them, flying up the steps like his life depended on it. Which was ironic, in a way.
He stopped as he entered the lobby, taking the opportunity to catch his breath. Students were staring to filter out. Chris could sense the panic. He glanced up the stairs. Four years at Arcana, five at Stanford, and there had only ever been minor earthquakes. This was a big one. He remembered the nights following the earthquake drills, when he and Amy had joked about being the only survivors-
Amy. Chris bolted up the stairs like a sprinter from the starting blocks, taking them three at a time. He swung towards the teacher's wing, sprinting for Amy's room. He hadn't a clue in hell where it was, but he was going to find it.
Alli dried her hands on a towel and turned around to face the mirror. She picked up her eyeliner and leaned in towards the mirror. As she lifted the kohl pencil to her eye, the earth began to quake violently. She clutched the counter, remembering every single earthquake drill she'd ever had. She knew she should try and get to her desk, but she wasn't moving while the tremors continued. Things began to crash to the floor around her. It took all of her self-restraint not to duck to the ground and cover her head. She had experienced smaller quakes in her time, having lived in San Francisco all her life. But this... This was worse than anything she had ever felt. Even she was in danger of losing her balance. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the counter. She glanced around the bathroom. The mirror didn't look too stable. Nothing seemed to be entirely safe. Dread filled the pit of her stomach as she remembered that she had locked the door. If anything happened, she was trapped. Suddenly, there was a crash and the sound of shattering glass. Alli barely had time to register that the mirror had shattered before shards of glass flew towards her. Pain exploded in her stomach. She stared in horror at the long, jagged shards of glass protruding from her stomach. The quaking stopped. Alli pried her fingers from the counter- and crashed to the ground.
She had never felt so much pain. And blood... There was so much blood. It looked like the shards of glass had moved when she hit the ground, worsening the injury. She glanced up at the door. She stretched out and pulled herself towards it, crying out in pain. She reached for the key, desperately trying to twist it. As she reached, she started to remember little things. Remember and regret. She could see the application form for the Olympic trials. She saw the face of the guy who had genuinely liked her and who had asked her out- and she had turned him down because she thought he had been taking the piss.
She looked at her stomach. The blood pool was growing at an alarming rate. She could feel her consciousness slipping. She reached a little more for the key, silently cursing her short arms. She could feel herself fading fast. As she stretched, more pleasant memories came to mind. She remembered the pride on the faces of her parents when she won her first national medal. The look of amazement on the faces of the six and seven year old kids when she had done a demonstration at her local grade school. The memory of her first kiss...
The starry sky above their heads. The warmth of his jacket around her shoulders. Eyes that were the colour of clouds before a storm. Long, dark, eyelashes. The smell of his aftershave. The faint taste of salted popcorn on his lips. The way it felt...
Her fingers gripped the key. She twisted it. But she knew inside that she was gone beyond help. The blood pool was too big. She closed her eyes.
As she faded, she could taste salted popcorn.